The Unexpected
by Sherri96
Summary: "GET DOWN, EVERYONE GET DOWN!"I whip my head back to see four masked men entering the bank; pointing guns at everyone else who wasn't wearing the ski masks over their face- and like the snap of a finger, everything slowed down.. I watched as one of the men roughly grabbed a elderly woman and pushing her to the ground and saw another man veering out of their group to punch a man...
1. Chapter 1

"GET DOWN, EVERYONE GET DOWN!"

I whip my head back to see four masked men entering the bank; pointing guns at everyone else who wasn't wearing the ski masks over their face.

And like the snap of a finger, everything slowed down. I watched as one of the men roughly grabbed a elderly woman and pushing her to the ground and saw another man veering out of their group to punch a man in his early 20's for just standing in shock. This seemed to last for minutes instead of the three seconds it actually was.

I could feel the fear and adrenaline pumping through my body, telling me one thing. _Run. _Butno matter how loud my mind was yelling at me to get out of there, the shock of the situation prevented my legs from moving forward. I felt like my mind was play catch up, unable to understand or accept the horrid scene unfolding right in front of me.

It wasn't until my eyes focused and saw one of the masked men standing in front of me that my brain finally caught up.

I stared into the man's blues eyes—unable to move, fearing that any movement will lead to my demise. We continue this for a few seconds, the ultimate staring contest, until he broke it.

"I said to get the fuck down!" He yelled in my face, grabbing me by the neck and pushing me to the side. My body sliding on the smooth tile floor until my head came into contact with the front counter, stopping my motion altogether.

I closed my eyes for a minute, trying to control the jack-hammering that was happening in my head. I open my eyes when I felt that I could open them and deal with the throbbing in my head without throwing up— but no luck. Once I open my eyes, everything is in a blurry motion, making the image I see look like a spiraling haze that made the attempt not to empting my stomach of the breakfast I had earlier impossible. Once I felt some relief with feeling ill, I roll onto my back, and focus my eyes until I can see clearly. I look to my left to see one of the masked men standing above two men who looked like identical twins and couldn't be no older then 25, and a woman who was covering her three children—none of the children could be older than ten. I turn my head to the right, and the first thing I see is a bright red headed woman, around the age of 23 or 24, with bright mint colored eyes. They have a blood trail flowing down from the top of their forehead, down their cheek, and then trailing down their neck.

Even in the situation I am in, I still blush when I realise they are staring right back at me. But the blush soon vanishes when I recognise the person staring right back at me—It was myself. I could hardly recognise myself with the blood trail going down the one side of my face, the knotting hair, the terrified big green eyes...

I look away from the wall mirror, unable to take in anymore of my current appearance and turn my focus on the one masked men standing guard near the front doors—but in partially hidden from any possible snipers the police may post around the bank.

_I wonder if the police even know yet of what is happening._ I bitterly think. I slowly move my eyes away from the one masked men to another one who is standing above about ten people. The ten hostages ranging from different ages between being infant to elderly. I look over all their faces, seeing sadness, shock, but mostly fear etched on their faces. My eyes keep trailing the faces until they land on one set of eyes that are looking right back at me. His gold eyes show no sadness, shock, or even fear for this matter. _How is he not afraid?_ He must see the dread in my eyes because he gives me a tight smile, as if reassuring me that everything will be okay. I take in the rest of this man who is obviously in denial to relies that he looks around my age, but probably a good foot taller than me making him around six foot. Similar to his eyes, his slightly curling golden hair covers half of his forehead. He is laying on his stomach, with his hands on his head like everyone else, but myself.

Its right after the reassuring smile the gold eyed man gave me that I realised that all I can hear is a ringing noise. I turn my head toward the ceiling, and close my eyes tight, taking my right hand and pushing my middle finger against my tragus, trying to stop the ringing, but I wish I hadn't. The first thing I hear when the ringing subsides is yelling—and a lot of it. Then next sound that follows is crying and the whispers of some people praying. But all those noises are covered by one man yelling who is the closes to me. I turn my head to see one of the masked men yelling at someone who I can't see over the counter.

As if sensing my glaze, the man turns his head and looks down at me, his sky blue eyes looking almost, regretful—he was the same man who pushed me. He turns his attention back to the person on the other side of the counter.

**Okay guys, if you guys want to see how this story goes, please leave me a review and tell me or just follow. I don't know how much time I can put into this story, but if there are enough people who want to see how this story goes, I can find time to write this story.**


	2. Chapter 2

It has been over two hours- two long hours, just watching the clock on the wall tick by. Never did I move from my position- just watched.

I finally move my head back to look at the ceiling. I think back to the morning, prior to the...incident.

_I locked up my apartment door and head outside. I start to plan out my day as I walk out the front door of the apartment building.' I have to stop at the art store and pick up some more supplies that I am running low on, meet Simon at the park closes to his apartment, call Jon before dinner, and work on some paintings.'_

'_But first, I'll stop by a cafe before I pick those things.' I think to myself. Ten minutes later, I enter the cafe, and order a bagel. I move to the cash register to pay for my order and realise the lack of green in my wallet will not be enough to pay for my bagel and art supplies—I'll have to stop at the bank that's across the street. _

_Why didn't I realise that I was running low on cash? Why did I have to pick up those supplies today? _My vision goes slightly blurry, only am I able to see when I blink my eyes and feel the tears sliding down my face, mixing with the with the fresh and dry blood my cheek.

"I want everyone over there, NOW!" I turn my head towards the sound of the voice, only to stare at the blue eyed man again. I hear the shuffling and the whimpers of people as they move to one side of the bank—never does my stare waver from the man.

The man turns his attention from the moving group of hostages and looks back at me. He steps forward, making me whimper with the anxiety of what he will do—the pain he will inflict on me. But I can't move to follow his order, no matter how much I yell at myself to move my legs, they doesn't listen.

As the man kneels down beside me I hold my breath in anticipation of what will follow.

"I said' He moves closer to me—whispering in my ear 'to MOVE." I flinch at the loudness at my ear, hurting my head even more. I feel the man grab me by my shoulders and _throws _me halve way to where all the other hostages are. I cry out as I once again make contact with the smooth tile floor, only sliding a short distance.

"You! Ya, you! Pick her up and bring her over there, Now!" I close my eyes, not wanted to listen to the voice of the blue eyed man any longer. I picture how the day should have gone: after the cafe I would of went to the art store, I walk over and see my best-friend...

My thoughts are put on hold as I feel a set of arms moving under the back of my neck and under my knees, hoisting me up in the air.

I don't open my eyes, I can't open my eyes, I'm too afraid to see who is caring me, to afraid of the situation that I'm in.

"It will be okay." Says a soft whisper in my ear; I crack open my eyes, only to meet with the gold eyes I saw earlier.

I just stare back at him. _How is he so calm? How does he know we will be fine?_ I close my eyes again, unable to fight against my eye lids any longer. I feel our walking motion come to a stop and we start moving down and I am settled into a lap. I crack my eyes open again to see that I am being settled in the golden haired mans lap. Apparently it doesn't matter the situation, but when it comes to boys, I'll blush every time. He gives me a tight smile once he notices the pink color creeping into my cheeks. I wince when I feel this fingers graze the cut on my head.

"I want you both on your stomachs." Yells someone off to my side—it sounds like someone different then the blue eye man.

"She needs a doctor." The man holding me coolly replies. I open my eyes further—_is he asking for a death wish!_

"Does it look like if give two shits? Get the fuck down NOW!" The man yells at him—the next thing I know, a new set of hands clamping down on my arm and ripping me out of the arms I was once in, pushing me down into the ground with enough force that I feel blood slowly trickle out of my nose. I hear a grunt close by me, I turn my head to the side the sound came from to see the golden eye man right beside me—our faces inches apart.

"It will be okay." He whispers to me again as we hear the receding sound of the masked man footsteps.

I close my eyes and breathe in deeply.

At this point, nothing seems like it will be okay.


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm Jace." I open my eyes again to look at the all gold man.

I turn my head upwards to see the closed two masked men talking quietly to each other before I reply.

"Clary" I whisper.

"Pretty." He says in return.

"Hey! You two, shut your fucking mouths, I don't want to hear another word from you." I flinch away from the sound, closing my eyes. I don't know which of the men said it—at this point, I just don't care.

"It will be okay Clary." Jace whispers to me, I wasn't even sure if he actually said anything to me until it was confirmed when I opened my eyes again to see him staring right back at me.

"How do you know though? You can't be sure." I reply at the same volume.

He only give me atight smile, no longer giving me words of comfort.

"Put all the money in the bags, NOW!" I turn my head to the opposite side of where Jace was, only to look at the blue eyed man, yelling at a middle aged woman who has streaks of mascara down her cheeks. I can see her looking down and franticly moving her hands behind the counter—I breathe out a long breath.

"Why the fuck hasn't he called, he should be here with the van by now." One of the masked men yells to the other three.

"What the hell are we going to do if he doesn't show up, are we too shoot ourselves out of here, take hostages with us?" One masked man adds, making all the hostages cringe.

"Give him some fucking time Malcolm and Carlson?" The blue eyed man says from the counter, turning his head to look over his shoulder to glare at the two men that had talked.

At this, Jace snaps his head up, making me recoil from him slightly at the sudden movement.

"When this all does down, just stay down Clary, don't move." Jace whispers to me—earning a very confused look from me.

"What do you mean?" I ask, but before he could even think of a reply, someone beat him to it.

"I told you two to SHUT UP!" I crush my eyelids together as I hear the fast approaching footsteps. I feel my body become tense with anticipation, my breathing coming more labored. But as soon as the sound of the footsteps came they stopped. My body stays tense for a couple more seconds but then relaxes when nothing happens. However, as if waiting for me to relax and to put my guard down, I felt a bone-crushing kick on my shoulder. This causes me to cry out in surprise- but mostly pain.

"HEY!" I hear Jace yell, making a move to push himself off the ground, although, no sooner did he make this movement did he also earn a kick but into the chest. The masked man begins to move his gun towards Jace.

"Shit" I hear the blue eyed man say "NOW!" I turn my head to look at the blue eyed man to see him removing his sky mask to reveal midnight black hair. This makes everyone in the bank stop-even the man about to shoot Jace.

"What are you talking about Lightwood?" One of the masked man asked, clearly confused on the man's choice of words.

Then, just as the four men came into the bank, everything slowed down.


	4. Chapter 4

At first, everything was bright—so bright that even a blind man could see this light. Sounds began to travel out of the light, dancing throughout the bank like it would in a auditorium. It reminded me of a guardian angel—coming out of the light, telling me it is my saviour.

But as the light began to fade and the sound turned into what could be mistaken as shouting, until it became clear that it was the shouting voices of many men and women.

Heavily armored men and women entered the bank, yelling at everyone to get down or stay down. I turn my head back to the blue eye man to see him pointing his gun at one of the masked men. My eyes travel across the bank, taking in the scene that is unfolding right in front of me.

So many people were crying—were they crying because they were scared, or were they crying because they were being saved? I couldn't be sure. I saw one of the masked men who was standing in the middle of the room began to raise his gun. Despite the yelling at him to stop, when his intentions never changed, his gun began to fail out of his hand along with his body to the ground, a hole in his abdomen that wasn't there a minute ago.

I quickly move my eyes away from the man bleeding out, not wanting to accept what I just saw. I turn my head towards Jace, who has the man whom just previously beat us pined to the ground, a gun pointing to his head.

I put my forehead against the cool tile, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. It's too much—all of this, I can't take anymore, I need to get out of here, I can't be in here for another second. I lift my head up and see some of the armed people escorting some of the hostages out of the bank. The blue eyed man handcuffing a masked man, Jace already handcuffed the masked man he had taken down, and roughly lifts him up and pushes him into an armed mans hands to take out of the bank.

I begin to lift my body off the ground—doing the opposite of what my body really wants to do. But I feel a hand push me back on the ground, preventing me from leaving—I whimper.

"Clary, don't move, we need to get a paramedic in here to look at you." Jace says in my ear, his hand still on my back. I relax slightly at the knowledge that it is him touching me, not one of the robbers. I lift my head up to look at him, my eyes being to blur once again.

"Jace' my voice comes out shaky ' I need to get out of here." He looks around him, thinking what the best to do at the moment is.

"You really should stay put Clary, I don't know the extent of you injuries." He tells me.

"Please." I left my head up at an awkward angle to look in dead in the eyes, but then dropping my head back down, not having the effort to keep it up anymore. He lets out a sigh and rolls me onto my back.

"What are y-." I begin to ask Jace, but stop when he lifts me up in his arms.

"I'm going to get you out of here." He says simply and beings to walk out of the bank. I close my eyes as soon as we step outside, the Sun seems to be burning brighter than it had before I entered the bank.

"JACE!" Jace turns around, but I make no move to open my eyes to see who had called him, the comfort I'm feeling is slowly lulling be to sleep.

"What the hell was that back there? You could have ruined the whole plan when you made a move on Carlson!" The man yells at Jace, the voice coming closer with each word until they are right in front of us.

"What the hell was I supposed to do? Huh, Alec, he could have done more damage to her." Jace says in reply, at this, I open my eyes to see non other then the blue eyed man standing in front of us. I flinch hard at the sight of him, Jace tightens his arms around me, looking down at me with concern. "And what the hell was that when you came into the bank. She smashed her head against that counter you throw her at." At this, Alec looks down.

"I didn't mean too, she's way lighter than I thought she would be." Alec said, making eye contact with Jace again, a hard look in his eyes.

"I don't have time for this; she needs to get to a hospital." Jace tells Alec, turning his back from him and starts to make his way to an ambulance.

"The Captain will want to see you at the station." Alec yells at Jace.

"I'll see him when I'm not busy." Jace yells over his shoulder, not making any move to stop.

"Jace, my head hurts." I murmur to him, moving my hand to cradle my head.

"It's okay Clary, we are almost there." He says softly, picking up his pace.

I close my eyes again, trying to control the nauseous feeling I'm getting again.

"Hey! Ya, I need some help, she hit her head pretty hard and the front of her face as well." Jace says, but I make no move to open my eyes to see who he is talking to.

"Okay, put her on the stretcher, are you a family member?" A new, deeper voice speaks. Jace doesn't say anything, but shifts me so he can grab something out of his pocket, a moment later the deeper voice says "Okay". I feel myself being lowered onto an uncomfortable surface, and what feels like fingers touching my head and face, making me shy away due to the pain from those areas. Someone places an object over my mouth and nose, confused with what it was, I make a move to remove the irritating thing off my face, but hands held me down, and air begins to travel through the thing on my face and into my lungs. I feel the surface I'm on began to move, as soon as it stops jerking, someone slaps their hand against a metal object, making an engine roar and the sensation of take off fast in a vehicle appear in my stomach. I move my hand once again to remove the thing on my face, but like the first time, hands hold my own down, preventing once again to remove the nuisance on my face.

"Stop being stubborn Clary and leave the mask on your face." A shushed voice says in my ear—Jace's voice.

I open my eyes to see the owner of that voice, staring back at me, an almost sad sort of a smile fixed upon his face. I break eye contact to look around the small room I'm in—I'm in an ambulance. As I look up towards the ceiling, I can see two people around my head; touched sore spots on my head, making me flinch each time they do. But I pay no attention to them, I only try to focus on staying awake as I see a black ring line my vision, taking up more and more of my sight as my headache increases. When my eyes begin to flutter close is when I hear Jace's voice again.

"Clary, you need to stay awake. Come on, don't close your eyes."

But no many how much I want to listen to his pleads, to fight the darkness that is consuming me, I know it's a battle I won't win.

So I let it consume me.

**Let me know what you think of this chapter! Have an amazing day!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Before you begin to read this chapter, I just wanted to tell you guys that I wasn't 100% sure about this chapter. It's not that I don't like it myself, but I don't know how you guys will feel about it. So let me know what you think and if you could please take some time out to read the note at the end of this chapter. Thanks!**

The first time I became conscious, all I notice was hushed voices surrounding me—unable to decipher what they were saying. I wanted so badly to open my eyes, but the weight on my eyelids prevented my efforts, forcing me into back into a slumber.

O.o.O

The second time I became conscious, I was able to peal my eyes open—with more effort than should be needed. Everything looked like a haze. I blinked a couple of times to clear my head and was able to finally make out my surroundings.

Four pale blue walls surrounded me, an uncomfortable looking chair to my right and a hospital bed table to my left. I make an attempt to move my head to glaze out the moon-lit window, although stopping the motion when I feel a stabbing pain pierce in my head. At this, something beings to beep at a fast pace—_was there something beeping the whole time? _

The door of my room opens and steps in an African-American woman, appearing to be in her early fifties.

"Hi there sweetie,' the woman says to me, walking up to my side of the bed, turning the noisy beeping sound down and starts to rub my arm. ' I'm your nurse Wanda; you're in the North Central Bronx Hospital. You got yourself a pretty bad head injury. You need to rest honey." And at that, she moves to one of my IV's, pushes the nozzle, and I'm soon falling asleep.

O.o.O

"It's time to wake up sweetie; we don't want you to over sleep any more than you have, now do we?"

I groan out my irritation for been woken up. I peal open my right eye, followed by the left, only to come face to face with Wanda.

"How are you feeling hon? Your blood pressure seems good, and all your other vials look great for only being emitted for six days." _Six days!_

I open my mouth to ask her why I was asleep for so long, but only a painful breath left my parched throat.

"Opps, I should have realized you would be thirsty. Here." She grabs a cup of water with a straw and brings it to my mouth—refreshing my throat and mind.

"What happened?" I croak out, only bits pieces come to mind but no enough to connect them together.

"It's okay Clary, you suffered a serve concussion, a pretty bad linear skull fracture and some bruising on different parts of your body, so it makes sense that you have some memory loss.' My eyes widen at this news but she continues on. 'You were in a bank that was being robbed; apparently one of the men had grabbed you and pushed you..." She continues to replay the events of that day, but I no longer pay attention as the memories swirl back in my mind, from the moment I stepped into the bank, to the moment I was carried out. Every fear, every moment of misery came racing back, causing my cheeks to turn red and my eyes too blur.

"Oh it's okay now hon, you're safe now." Wanda pats my arm, giving me a reassuring smile—I return a weaker one despite the fact I don't feel reassured. "There's some people here to see you, I'll go and get them for you." She tells me—I give a slightly larger smile and at that, she exits the room.

I close my eyes the moment she leaves the room, trying as best as I can to control the emotions that are threaten to take over. _Deep breathes. _

I open my eyes when I hear the click of a door knob being turned, and see as my mother and brother enter the room.

"Oh honey." My mother says, rushing to my bed side to hold my hand, my brother walking to the other side, grabbing my other hand. "How are you feeling? Are you in any pain? Does your head hurt? Are you hung-."

"Mom.' I say faintly 'I'm fine." She gives me a tiny smile and touches my cheek with her knuckles.

"You scared us for minute there Care-Bear." My brother says, squeezing my hand.

"Ya, me too." I reply, giving a fake smile, trying to emphasize that I'm okay.

They stayed with me until I fell asleep again an hour later. After their first visit, my week turns into a pattern: Mom visits see me in the morning, I try to sleep but the sound within the hospital hall scare me into staying awake, Jon comes to see me at his lunch break, I try to sleep but can't due to the fear what my nightmares will be this time, Simon come and sees me in the evening after he is done work, and due to exhaustion I'm able to finally fall asleep.

When Friday finally rolls around, I couldn't be more trilled. I was finally going to get out of this repeating rut of a week, and go back into a somewhat normal routine—at least, I'm going to try.

When my Mom enters the hospital room at ten in the morning, I'm already dress and have my bag packed—she chuckles as I speed walk out of the room. After we sign all the papers and I promise my doctor that I'll come in for a weekly check up until she says differently, we are stepping out of the hospital and entering into the warming Sun and into a cool freshness that is the air. I breathe in deeply—enjoying every moment of my freedom.

As we start walking down the sidewalk, the view of a fit average height man with white blonde hair like my father's and green eyes closely similar to my own come into view—Jon. He is leaning against his car waiting—his image becomes clearer and clearer the closer we get, until I am close enough to make out the smile that is plastered on his face. He moves away from the car, taking a few steps towards me and engulfing me in a hug—I couldn't help but laugh.

"So' He begins to say as we pulled apart but keeping his hands on my arm 'I was thinking we could stop at your favourite dinner before we took you home, what do you think about that?" I smile at him and nod, knowing that if I said no they would know something was up and that I wasn't all right despite all the times I told them I was.

I get into the back seat as my brother takes the driver and my mother takes the passenger and we take off. The closer and closer we get to our destination the higher my anxiety got. _How many people will there be? What if they come to rob the dinner? What if they take hostage? _

My mind swirls with the fear and possible outcomes of how this meal can go out. The moment the car stops beside the dinner, my fear is full blown. I make a move to open my door as Jon and Mom get out of the car, but I can't make my hand grasp the door handle—_I can't do this._

"Are you coming sweetheart?" I look up to see my mom out of the car, but kept her door open since she saw my hesitation.

"Yes Mom." I give her a big smile and somehow manage to open my car door and step out.

o.O.o

The moment Jon and Mom aren't paying attention, I look around the dinner for the umpteenth time since we entered the dinner twenty minutes ago. I look back at the people at my table and smile when I see Jon stuffing his face as if he hasn't eaten in days, and my Mom smacking his shoulder telling to act his age and eat respectfully in public—some things just don't change. I look down at my partly eaten blow of Borsch, having no intention to finish it.

The bell in front of the door rang, signaling to everyone in the dinner of a new person entering. Like every other time I heard that noise I look at the door in suspicion.

I couldn't move. I could feel my breathing come in harder and faster, fear clenching my muscles. I'm unable to tear my eyes away from the man I so easily recognized from the bank.

**Hey guys, please let me know what you think of the story so far. I have had a lot of question but don't worry, you will get your answers in time! **

**To the wonderful person who had left a review wondering if I will be updating my other story: I don't know. I think I will finish that one in time, but all I am think about is getting this story done before I go back to that one. I need time to think about where I want to go because I feel that I rushed some things in that story. BUT that isn't a for sure that I will finish it. **

**Thank-you to everyone who has followed, favourite and reviewed this story. **

**Have a great day! **


	6. Chapter 6

**VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER, Please read it and let me know what you think, thanks!**

Everyone has fears.

We all have them.

One of the greatest fears people have is death. Not knowing for sure what will happen to our soul, no longer being a part of the world.

I thought that this was one of my greatest fears.

But I couldn't be more wrong.

I learned my greatest fear about two weeks ago. In a bank that I pass almost every day for the last three years, in a bank that is across the street from my favourite little cafe.

This is where I learned what my greatest fear was.

A side from death, many people wouldn't have to face their true fears unless they choose to confront them, no longer allowing them to own part of their soul.

However, I never wanted to face my fear.

But now I was.

He doesn't look around the dinner as he enters, only walks straight to the counter and take a seat on the bar stool, talking to the waitress too softly to hear. His body posture showing him to be at ease, as if he faces no trouble in the whole world ever. As if he has no fears.

I can't tear my eyes away from his back—no matter how badly I want to, my mind won't let me. As if this is some sort of karma that I'm being delivered, having to sit and wait for my punishment for the sins I created.

I wish I knew what I did to deserve this karma.

A gentle hand is placed over mine, breaking my paralysis and allowing me to turn to my mother. Never once does she remove her hand or does the concern look waver in forest green eyes. It's not until I notice her mouth is moving that I realize that she is specking.

"Clary, are you okay?" I look down and slowly pull my hand out from underneath hers. Placing both my hands in my lap and squeeze them together until they begin to turn white.

"I'm just really tired, could we leave please?" I ask, refusing to look up to meet the worried looks of my mother's and brother's.

"Sure." My Mom replies. She and I go outside to wait in the vehicle while Jon pays for our meal—it's more of me fast walking out of the diner as my Mom rushed to stay with me.

I buckle up in the backseat once again and let my knee bounce up and down, showing my lack of patience for my brother's return. The moment I see Jon step out of the dinner I breathe a sigh of relief, and begin to feel my body relax more the closer he gets to the car—the soon to getting me away from _him._

By the time Jon slides into his seat and starts the car I have my head back and silently thank god.

An unsettling shiver rolls down my back, making me sit up straighter in my seat. The feeling of an invincible pull turns my head back towards the dinner.

My eyes first landed on the denim pants, making their way up to the badge hooked onto his belt, to the take-out bag in his hand, to the eyes that I will never forget—no matter how hard I try.

My heart stops.

His eye-browns came together, confusion clear on his face, until it's replaced with realisation moment later. He takes a step towards the car and stretches out his hand, a troubled look crystal clear on his face.

He took another set forward to shorten the space between us, but it seemed God was answering more than one of my prays today as Jon pulled the car out of the parking spot, putting a more comfortable distance between myself and him.

Before we turn the corner, I spared one glance over my shoulder. Black hair and blue eyes stare right back at me.

o.O.o

"Are you sure you don't want us to stay with you for a little while? I promise you that it's no bother to me or your brother." My Mother asks me for the tenth time since we arrived back at my apartment. I take her questions as a blessing than annoyance—a blessing to help distract me from what occurred at the diner. Surely replaying the scene over and over again in my head will make me go mad. Well, crazier then I already am, that is.

I place my hands on her shoulder and look her dead in the eye. "Mom, I'm good. Trust me. If anything happens, you'll be the first I call." I laugh the last bit out and give her a smile, trying my best to make it look real.

After another three of her repeated questions, I finally say good bye to my mother and brother, waving to them until I close the door in my apartment and lock it.

Once I close the door, I slowly turn around, taking in every surface and every cranny that makes my apartment what it is. Everything from the gray counter tops in the tiny kitchen to the black couch that my parents gave me the first day I moved into this apartment. Despite all the happy memories and ease it bring me every time I'm here, I couldn't feel more alone.

Being alone now a days was surely harmful to my health. Letting my mind wonder and having no one to distract me will surely lead me to an insane asylum. How could I not be a complete mess after a dramatic event like that? But I know the second I admit that to anyone, the moment people know that I'm always on my toes when I'm around people, or I have nightmare that feels like I was once again there that day, they will never look at me the same. They will see me as this fragile woman who needs to talk to a psychiatrist to work through her problems for the rest of her life—but I don't want to be that person. I don't want to be the type of person who needs to rely on someone else to tell them that everything will be okay, someone who will always have people feel sad for them...

I take a deep breath and lean against my front door, closing my eyes and tilting my head upwards, praying to the heavens to clear my head, to let me forget and move on...

Despite my praying, God seems to answer so many prays in a day.

I huff out an annoyed breath and step away from the door—looking around my apartment to busy myself, deciding that the blank canvas that is leaning against my wall is my best bet. I place it on my studio easel and lifted my paint brush, but no matter how hard I tried to focus my mind on what was right in front of me, nothing I could paint came to mind. I stood there for another ten minutes, waiting for some sort of inspiration to hit me—but it never came.

I slammed my paint brush onto the closest end table and fisted my hands. Not once in my life have I experienced an artist block—and I have never hated it so much.

Before I started to rant to myself out loud to myself like a mad man, there was a hard knock on my door.

I instantly froze.

Once I slowly made it to my door, I mentally cursed myself for picking an apartment that doesn't have a peephole.

I unlock my door and slowly open it, not expecting to see the person on the other side.

He lets out a long breath, shoulders visibly relaxing once he saw me.

"Clary,' He begins to say 'you look much better than the last time I saw you." He takes a pause, expecting me to reply, but continue when I don't. "Do you mind if I come in."

It takes a moment for my brain to catch up with my ears and I step back, opening the door wider.

"Sure, come in Jace."

**Very Important question for you all: Would you like this story to have the romance between Jace and Clary or Alec and Clary or even for both? (If both, keep in mind that I will probably kill off one of them, but that isn't for sure.) I want to know what you would like, I sort of have an idea on what I will be doing, but depending on what people want and how many people want one of the three options, I may change that. So please leave a review and let me know. **

**As well, I won't be able to update date until most likely Sundays from now until Christmas Break. I may update every other Sunday depending on how busy I am. **

**Thank-you once again to reading my story, your reviews always make my day. **


	7. Chapter 7

**So this chapter didn't take as long as I thought it would take to write, and I also had a snow day on Friday so I got it done early. I thought I was going to have to wait until next weekend to post, so here you go!**

Jace gives me a smile and steps through the threshold, walking into the middle of the living room only to stop and take in my apartment. I turn my back to him to close the door, and when I turn back, I see him staring at me.

"You have a very nice place, the sort of place an artist,' He points to the studio easel, his voice in a questioning pitch, hinting to me to confirm his observation 'would live."

I smile slightly at his attempt at learning something about me. "Congratulations Jace, you know how to connect the dots." He begins to laugh, making me smile—he has an adorable laugh.

"Well Clary, it's my job to connect the dots, I am a Police Officer if you didn't already know." He replies, giving me a kind smile.

I chuckle at this. "Don't worry Jace, I was able to connect those dots." My face now becomes more serious, causing him to lose his smile as well. "What can I help you with Jace?" I ask, my voice a few pitches lower.

He clears his throat and motions with his hand to the couch, I take a seat and he soon joins me. Taking out a note pad and pen from his jacket pocket, Jace looks me dead in the eye. All amounts of light humor no longer caress his face, but instead a more serious, slight hard expression replaces it. "I need to ask you some questions about what happened on the seventh of August at the Bank of America at approximately ten thirty-one in the morning. Before we get into, I'm going to need your full name and age." He looks down at his note pad, ready to write down my name, but I don't say anything.

_Is this what I get for wanting to move on, to relive my fears, having to picture him...?_

"Clary." I'm brought back to reality by Jace's voice. I turn my head to look at him, only to see him leaning towards me, his hand on knee—a look of uncertainty clear on his face and in his aureate eyes. I look down at his hand on my knee. He removes it immediately after he sees my eyes glazing at his hand and lean back into his original position, clearing his throat again and mumbling a half-hearted _'Sorry'_. I shake my head and look at his face which is back to looking down at his note pad, his pen begging to be used so it will stop being hit against the note pad every two seconds by its holder.

I clear my throat as well. "Clarissa Adele Morgenstern, twenty- three." His shoulders slump down; no longer tense with the possible consequences he was expecting due to his close proximity just a moment ago.

"Parents and siblings, their occupations as well." He says right after my reply, never taking his eyes off of his note pad.

"My Mother is Jocelyn Morgenstern, she teaches art at a high school, my Father is Valentine Morgenstern, he was in the military, and my brother is Jonathan Morgenstern, he was laid-off a couple of months ago."

"Your Father is no longer in the military?" Jace asks, quickly writing down the information.

"No, he died five years ago while on his last tour, car bomb." I look down at my lap as I say this. It was the one thing that I hated to talk about; I hardly talked to Simon or Jon about it, let alone anyone else.

I see Jace's hand reach out and take a hold of one of my hands in my lap, I look up to see him giving me a small apologetic smile. He squeezes my hand once and takes it back, picking up his pen and writes it down on him note pad.

"What is your occupation?"

When I don't reply, he looks up at me again, only to see me with both eye-browns raised, head slightly tilted and an amused look on my face.

He nods once. "Right, artist. I'm guessing that you freelancer?" I nod to confirm his suspicion.

"Are you in a relationship?"

"What does me being in a relationship have to do with anything?" I asked, getting slightly annoyed by all the personal questions. I was always one for having privacy.

He stutters for a moment, but collects his words and says. "In order to do my job the best I can, I need to know everything about what happened at the bank, including everything about the people who were there."

I huff out an annoyed breath and look away from him, giving my cheap television a death glare. "Single."

I look back at him only to see a smile fighting for domination against his lips as he writes down this information. I let out another huff of annoyance.

"Can you replay the events to me before you went to the bank, all the way to the last thing you remember?" He asks, looking up at me.

I gulp, look down and begin.

I tell him everything from the moment I left my apartment, to me stopping at the cafe, to the moment I entered the bank and the men not long after entered the bank, and ending with the memory of him caring me out of the bank and the short time I was conscious in the ambulance.

The entire time I was replaying the events of that day, Jace never once interrupted me. Not to ask me to go into more detail about something or to pause me so he could catch up with his notes. It wasn't until I was done speaking and he was still writing down the last bit of my story that I realised how endearing of a trait is—the trait of listening. I know that he asked about my perspective about the day at the bank because of his job, but I have this feeling deep in my stomach that is telling me that it wasn't just for his job, that he wanted to know how affected I was from the hole ordeal by the way he looked at me at certain parts of the story or how he stopped writing for short periods just to look at me and listen—it was slightly heartwarming.

Once he was done writing down what he needed, he places the note pad and pen back in his jacket pocket and looked back at me. I give him a half smile and he returns a full one and makes a move to stand up- I follow in pursuit. I walk him to the door and open it for him. Once he is on the other side of the door, he turns back and looks at me and grabs a business card out from his inside jacket pocket, writes something on the back and hands it to me, I read the top of the card.

_Jace Herondale_

_Undercover Operations _

"If you remember anything else that you think is important, give me a call at any time. My personal number is on the back." I give him a nod and he returns it. "Well, I guess I'll see you around Clary."

"Bye Jace." He turns his back and I start to shut the door, but when its half way closed, something stops it, I look around the door to see Jace's hand preventing me from closing it—I open in wide again, slightly confused due to his abruptness.

"Clary,' He pauses for a moment, thinking about his next few words carefully. 'What are you doing tomorrow for lunch or dinner?"

My eyes go wide—_Is he seriously asking me out?_

"I'm sorry Jace, I have plans tomorrow." His hand drops from the door and he looks down for a split second before looking back at me, his aureate eyes glowing dimmer.

"That's fine, good-bye Clary." He quickly turns around and starts to make his way down the half, but I reach out my hand and grab his arm, turning him around to face me, only to see his face now looking confused.

"I'm meeting my brother and a friend tomorrow, but I'm completely free the next day."

_Why the hell did I just do that! I hardly know the guy—scratch that, I don't know him at all!_

As I have this mini battle in my mind, it almost immediately gets washed away by the grin that is now on Jace's face.

"Sounds like a date, I'll pick you up at six."

I return his infectious smile and say "It's a date." I turn around and start making my way back into my apartment, but before I close the door, I poke my head out of my door to see Jace about to turn the corner, fist pumping the air.

It was the first time since the bank that I actually let out a real laugh.

**Thank-you to everyone who reviewed and left their input for the relationship situation!**

**As well, thank-you to everyone who left a very kind reviews referring to my writing and the story. I read all your reviews and it always makes my day. Let me know what you think of this chapter! **

**As a side note, if I have any American readers, I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving! **

**Have a great day everyone!**


	8. Chapter 8

_Knock, Knock._

"I'm coming!" I quickly close my sketchbook and run into my room, throwing it onto my bed so Jon doesn't feel 'inclined' to look at it and run to the front door and throw it open, grinning as I see my brother with the take-out bags in his hands.

"I've been waiting forever! I've missed you!"

"Awe Clare-Bear, I just saw you –" He stops midsentence as I snatch the take-out bag from him, realising that I wasn't talking to him at all. I turning around and walking into my tiny kitchen and begin to lay out the food. "Nice one Claire." He says, giving me a side hug which I return, but keeping most of my focus on the steaming hot breakfast in front of me. "So how are you?" I look up from the heaping plate in front of me to see my brother looking down at the food he is gathering, trying to play down the question which most people would think was a normal question—but I didn't miss the seriousness that was lased in it.

"Jon, I honestly think that if you asked me one more question about how I am, I may slap you." He laughs at this but slowly stops when he sees my eye-browns raised and a hand on my hip, realizing that I'm not joking one bit."

"Clary,' He says my name slowly, trying to handle a situation that can turn worse for him carefully. 'you are my little sister, you can't expect me to not worry." I sigh, grab my plate and walk over to the couch, Jon right behind me.

"I know you and Mom worry Jon, but there is no need to, trust me." I said while placing my plate of food on the coffee-table, avoiding the piercing glaze of my brother—trying to decipher what I said.

"What makes Mom and I so worried is the fact that you haven't talked about it at all. You have just kept it all bottled up and decided to deal with it on your own." When he see me making no move to say anything, and only picking at my food he lets out a defeated sigh "I guess all I'm getting at is that if you ever need someone to talk to, you can always come to me."

I look over to see Jon looking down, picking at this nails. I reach over and take his hand—he had a habit to pick his nails when something was bothering him. He looked at me and I give him a smile. "I know you are always there for me Jonathan, but I feel that this is something that I have to do on my own." He gives me a small smile and nods. "So,' I begin to say, trying to lighten the tension that is circling us both. 'what shall we watch my dearest brother?" He smiles, happy that the worst is over.

"Whatever, but no chick flicks, there's no way I'm letting you put me through that again."

o.O.o

"Oh, that must be Simon!" I jump up from my seat on the couch and run to the door that produced a banging noise just moments ago—Jon laughs at my excitement. I throw open the door to see my oldest friend holding six different movies in his hands, a smile plastered on his face.

"Are you ready for the most exhilarating five hours of your life?" Simon asks me, stepping into my apartment and placing the movies beside four hour old dirty dishes Jon and I had used. At this thought, I look up to see Jon shrugging on his jacket.

"Won't you stay and watch some movies with us Jon?" I asked, a little surprise by his sudden departure.

He looks at me and then at Simon, a knowing smile clear as day on his face—why it's there, I wouldn't know.

"No, I should head out. I can only spend so much time with you, my dear sister." His smile changes into a genuine one as he pulls me into a hug. I laugh at his comment and return it, kissing him on the cheek before we break apart. "I'll call you later in the week." He says as he opens the door, I agree to this and wave to him as he closes the door behind him.

I turn around to look at Simon who is clearing off the coffee-table and placing snacks on it instead—when you have a movie marathon, you need to be prepared.

"So...' I begin to say, making my way into the living room again 'how have you been the last few days?" I ask, knowing by the slight jump in his step that he has something to tell me.

"I've been good." He simply says. I roll my eyes at this and poke him in the back, making him focus his attention on me instead of placing the Salt & Vinegar chips in a bowl. "I'm just' he pauses for a moment and then grabs me by my shoulders and letting out a sigh. "I'm just so happy that you are back home and okay."

The seriousness in his eyes warms my heart and makes my eyes water slightly. When he sees this reaction from me, he pulls me into a hug—not saying anything, only being there—exactly what I need at that moment.

After I take some deep breaths we separate and I smile weakly at him, insuring him that I'm okay. He places a movie in the DVD and we take a seat. As we begin watching the beginning credits, I notice the first fraction of relief I have had yet—the first fraction of being able to move on.

But as soon as I came to this realisation, a new one followed.

It has been a week. A week of being around my family and friends, who emit so much love to me and who are trying their best to help me through this.

But if my brother can't help me or even my oldest and closes friend to completely move past this, then I really am going to have to do this on my own.

And like that, the fraction of relief that I have first felt disappeared completely, leaving despair in its place.

**I don't know how I completely feel about this chapter, so let me know what you thought of it. **

**This chapter is slightly shorter, but I'm hoping for the next chapter to be longer. **

**I think that Clary now having this feeling of helplessness and the belief that no one can help her with this conflict that she is mentally facing is a big part in this story, so when you need the chapters that follow this, keep this bit of information in mind! With that being said, I think you will like the next chapter! **


	9. Chapter 9

I close my eyes and count to three.

_Deep breaths Clary, deep breaths._

I open my eyes again and stare up at the clothes hanging in my closet from the floor, having given up looking for something to wear for this date ten minutes ago.

I turn my head towards my nightstand to see my clock read _5:30_.

I groan—I have an half an hour to get ready.

I get up fast—making my head spin for a moment—and grab the long-sleeve, tight, olive green dress I contemplated wearing about ten times before and deciding that it is probably my best shot. Once it is on, I put some eye-liner on and put my hair in a bun, letting some of the curls fall out. I look back at the clock to see that I have ten minutes to kill. I look into the mirror, slightly surprised on how nice I look, I usually never put in this much effort into dates, why is this one so different?

_It's Jace, that's why._ A little voice whispers in the back of my head—I shake it away. But then I consider it. It is true, it's Jace. He and I have been through more in two weeks than most people would in their life time, and their children's life time—and we went through it together.

However, he did know _what_ was going on the hole time, so I guess that fact makes it slightly different.

But we went through it together, none the less.

A soft knock vibrates through my front door; I look back at my clock to see _6:00_ flashing red—right on time. I quickly put my jacket on, grab my purse and open the door.

Jace stood there, wearing a black jacket and a grey scarf around his shoulders—it was a good look for him.

"Wow,' he says as he take in appearance 'you look amazing." I blush slightly.

"You don't look to bad yourself." I said as I locked my door. Once I'm done and turn around to face him again, he takes my hand in his and leads me down the hallway to the front door. I couldn't help but notice how his hand engulfs my own—I knew I was small, but not that small. "So, where are you planning on taking me?" I asked him once we stepped outside into to the cool air of the late evening.

He chuckles slightly. "Impatient are we. I was thinking dinner would be nice, we shouldn't be out to late, I have to be at work early tomorrow." He replies as he holds the passenger door open for me as a slide in.

"A twenty year old man and you still have a bedtime." I giggle slightly at this new fact, causing him to cracks a smile.

"First of all, I'm twenty- four, thank-you very much, and it's because I'm a twenty-four year old man that I have a bedtime as you so simply put it. Real men have bedtimes." At this, I begin to laugh hard, only to be joined by Jace seconds later.

"Whatever you say, sir." I say with a smile, he takes off his eyes off the road for a moment to look back at me to return it.

It wasn't long before we arrived to our destination. The moment we stepped out of Jace's car, the smell of freshly baked bread over powered my nose, making my stomach rumble slightly. Jace placed his hand on my lower back and lead me into the stunning restaurant. I paid no attention to him as he spoke softly to the greeter as I admired the large night themed painting hanging on the wall, noting the techniques the artist used that would come in handing in future paintings of my own—but what seemed like the norm now a days, no ideas for a painting came to mind.

My train of thought broke as Jace put slight pressure on my back, indicating for me to being walking again. Our waiter lead us to a more isolated table, lit by faintly brighter than dim lighting with a semi round booth—making it easier to couples to be closer together during their meal.

As Jace and I took opposite sides of the table we scooted towards eachother until our arms where touching—pleased with our sitting arrangement.

I look over the dinner menu, deciding that the Grilled Salmon would do the job to clench my growing hunger and close the menu. I look up to see Jace leaning towards me slightly, his chin resting on the palm of his hand, his pointer finger running against his lips.

"Have you decided on what you will be eating this evening?" He asks me in a slightly lowered voice. I clear my throat.

"The Grilled Salmon." I simply say. I dare not say more, in embarrassment that he will see how light of breath he made me with his close proximity.

"Hmmm.' He beings to say, a slow smirk playing at his lips. 'A girl who isn't afraid to eat, believe it or not, it's very attractive,"

I smile at this. "Surly your other dates have had more than a salad without dressing for dinner." I say to him leaning my elbow on the table and my cheek on my hand, admired the sight in front of me.

"Well, I guess you would be surprised then my dear." He smiles at me, moving back when the waiter arrives at our table to take our orders. As Jace tells him what we both will be eat, I can't help the small smile that finds its way onto my face at the nickname he gave me— its defiantly a nickname that I can get use to being called on the daily.

Once our waiter left to place our orders, Jace looks back at me. "Why are you smiling?" He asks me, unable to help the small smile that touches his face as well. I shake my head and being the Q & A.

"So, since you know so much about me, I think it's only fair that I know something about you." I say as I sip at the red wine Jace had purchased.

"What would you like to know?" He leans forward once again, his voice soft like a feather.

"Anything." I say in reply, leaning back in the booth, ready as ever to learn something new about this man.

"Well there's not much to know. I'm an only child, my parents were married for fifteen years before they got divorced, and I've been in the police force since the day myself and my best friend sent our application in when I turned eighteen."

"What's your friend's name?" Curiosity getting the best of me.

"Alec. His family is like my second one, he is the closes thing I have to a brother."

"Alec?" They name sounds familiar to me, but I couldn't place a face with it.

"Yes, Alec. You actually meet him before." He chuckles slightly by the confused look on my face. "He was undercover at the bank."

Like a snap of a finger the memories rush back of Alec and the face that goes with the name. Every memory that involved him runs across my eyes, causing my breath to catch in my throat.

"Are you okay Clary?" Jace places his hand on my shoulder, forcing me to look at him. This snaps me back into the present—I shake my head of any previous thought and nodded.

"Yes, sorry, I can't say that I have very good memories of Alec." I mumble out, shamed that I let the memories got the best of me in front of him—I was doing so well.

"I know." He says with a slight frown, moving his hand off my shoulder and onto the seat behind my head, moving closer to me as he does.

With perfect timing, the waiter brings us our food and we dig in. Few words are exchanged throughout the meal—I would of loved to ask him more question about his past and his plans for his future, but what if he ask me about what just happened? What would I say? Once I finished, I looked over to see Jace almost finished his meal, but I was slightly surprised that he didn't move the entire meal, and it wasn't until this moment that I realised how close that really was. From his legs all the way up to our shoulders, our sided were completely flushed with each other, causing a slight blush to form on my cheeks. While Jace finished eating, I let my mind wonder. Instead of the usually thoughts that I try to keep buried in my mind that always find their way to the surface, Jace is what came to mind first.

Everything from his beautifully sculptured face to how even in the dim lighting we are in, his hair still reflects the light, making it look like a halo circles his head—making him look almost angelic.

"Do you like what you see?" I'm broken out of my day dream to see Jace with an amused smirk on his face. I blush even more at the fact that I was out right staring at him that hole time, this causing Jace's smirk to grow in size. "Come on." He takes me hand and pulls me out of the booth, dropping a generous about of cast onto the table before leading me out of the restaurant.

Once we are settled in the car and pulled away from the curb, I noticed that we were heading in the opposite direction of my apartment.

"Umm, Jace. My apartment is the other way." He laughs, mostly due to my lack of knowledge of what he has plan.

"There is one place I want to show you first." He replies as he takes one of my hands in his.

It takes us about ten minutes to arrive at Jace's secret destination. He brings the car to a stop and turn it off, getting out of the car to open my door as I sit there contemplating whether Jace is actually a cop or some sort of serial killer. Once out of the car I look around to only to see an area thick with trees, and only trees. I give Jace a weary look but he just shakes his head with a smile and leads me into the trees.

It only took us a few moments for us to clear the trees, only to enter a clearing hidden within the spruce trees— the sight was truly magical.

Wild flowers covered the entire clearing's floor —a rainbow of different colors that danced every time the wind slightly blew. Light from the star lit sky outlined the spruce trees that surrounded the clearing, giving them a mighty and old look—as if the trees held so much knowledge and wisdom from all the years they had lived. The star light glistened off the water on the small pond, reflecting off to brighten the clearing just a faction more—it was truly beautiful.

"I enjoy coming here sometimes after a long day at work. It helps me to relax." Jace said softly. I turn my head to look at him only to see him admiring the view in front of us.

"I can see why, how did you find this place?" I asked him, turning back to see two birds land on the pond.

"Alec and I came across it as kids." I freeze at this, deciding that commenting will give away my unease. "And I thought that since this place always brings me to ease, that maybe it will do the same for you."

I snap my head towards him—why would he think something like that?

"I don't understand..." I drift off; he shakes his head slightly and looks back at me.

"I'm not blind, Clary.' He begins to say. "Someone who went through what you did wouldn't be okay. You can tell people that you're not damaged from what happened, but I'll never be one of those people."

"So,' I begin to say. "you brought me here in hope that it will cleanse me of everything that happened, to heal me by the sight of a pond and a couple of trees?" I take a step back, getting more and more annoyed with this conversation—he doesn't know me, he doesn't need to help me, _I don't need his help._

"No Clary,' He reaches out and grabs my shoulder to prevent me from moving farther away from him. 'I brought you here only to bring you some ease. I know what you're going thought Clary, it's something I deal with every day because of my job. Living in fear though won't help you; it makes life so much harder, trust me." He reaches to grab a piece of hair that had fallen out of my bun, placing it behind my ear.

"How do you deal with you?" I whisper as he cups my cheek with his hand.

"This first thing I do to deal with it,' he says to me gently as he pulls me down to the ground, Jace sitting with me in an embrace 'is start by easing the pain."

**I would like to apologize for my late update, but I'm sure you all know how crazy life can get sometimes. **

**If you have any question referring to this chapter, review and I'll be more than happy to clear anything up for you.**

**Happy Holidays!**


	10. Chapter 10

"I'm calling bull." I laugh out, hardly able to believe a ridiculous story like that.

"It's true! It honestly happened." Jace says while throwing his hands up in the air, amused but slightly frustrated that I don't believe his fake story.

"So, you're telling me that you got so drunk that you ran around New York butt-naked, with a pair of antlers on your head?" I ask while raised an eye-brow.

"Exactly, you can always ask Alec if you don't believe me, he saw the whole thing." I shake my head and look down at the now empty Chinese take-out container in my hand.

"Don't worry, I believe you." I say with a light laugh. I get up and begin to busy myself with cleaning the apartment. As I begin washing the utensils, I feel Jace press up against my back, wrapping me in his arms as he places his head on my shoulder.

"You know, we haven't gone on a date for a while now." He begins to say.

"Jace, we went on a date just last week."

"Last week was so long ago though my dear, and don't deny it, you loved that date." He places a gentle kiss on my temple.

It's true, that date was amazing.

After out little hiccup, just sitting there taking in the scenery was exactly what I need—Jace was right. And I couldn't think of a better way to end the date than how Jace had.

_I laid my head against his shoulder, breathing in the sweet aroma from the wildflowers as I admired the scene in front of me. _

_We sat like this for what felt like hours, in a complete blissfulness. Jace was twirling a piece of my hair between his fingers when he broke the silence._

"_Are you feeling better?" He asked me. Such a simple question, but hidden within it was so much seriousness, concern, I knew there was no getting around this, so a serious answer I returned._

"_Yes."_

_And for the first time in what feels like a long time, I actually truly meant that. Perhaps this will not be a journey I will have to face it alone—but with Jace. _

_Then, out of nowhere, Jace yelps, standing up in record timing as I fall out of his lap to the ground, complete and utterly confused on what just happened. _

_Jace reaches down, pulling me up as if I'm a small child and places me behind him, shielding me from whatever threat stands before him. _

"_Clary, slowly move back, don't make any loud noises or sudden movements." He forcefully tells me as he puts a hand behind him to hold me as we walk backwards."_

"_But Jace—" I begin to whisper but he cuts be off. _

"_Dear God Clary, do as I say if you want to live." He cries out in a hushed tone. _

_At this point, I'm thoroughly confused and scared. But that doesn't stop me from looking around him to see the horrific creature._

_But as soon as I do, to Jace's fear, I burst out laughing._

"_Jace, that's a duck!" I says in short breaths, once again unable to contain my laughter, going into another round of laughter. _

_The duck was probably twenty-feet away, minding its own business as it swam along on the pond's surface. _

"_Jace, you take down criminals for a living, and you're telling me that you're afraid of a cute little duck?!" This keeps getting better and better. _

"_First of all,' be begins to say, never taking his eyes off of the duck. 'they are not cute for a starters, and no sane person likes ducks, if they do, they should be checked into a mental institution." _

"_Oh Jacey, come on, let's get you home and away from the scary ducky." I say as if I'm talking to a small child. _

_And to my slight surprise, he agreed. _

"Ha, you're right Jace, I did enjoy our little date. I enjoying learning new things about the people I date- like their greatest fears." I smile as I say this, imagining how much annoyance that would bring him.

He lets out a small growl in my ear and quickly jams his hands into my sides, tickling me. I let out a screech and push my back against his front, trying to move him back so I can book it to my room, lock myself in my room for five minutes and decide on what to do from there.

But despite my excellent plan, Jace wouldn't budge. The more I pushed against him, the closer I got to him and the more he tickled me.

At the end of the my horrifying experience, I was laying on the floor, tears from laughter slowly traveling down my face, and laying on top of me, supporting his body with his arms which laid on either side of my head was Jace.

He moves closer to me, moving his thumbs on my cheeks, whipping away the few tears that escaped. My breathing becomes slightly laboured; my eyes stay locked on his has he moves even closer, making the tips of my noses touch slightly. It wasn't until he moved even closer, sliding his nose against mine when I broke eye contact to glance at his lips—giving him the universal single.

And with that, he closed the small distance between us.

His lips—soft as a feather—moved roughly with mine—as if they were deprived of their life source—and mine were their only hope of survival. As my hands traveled over his slightly noticeable abs and higher one of his hands moved down, grasping my hip firmly, pulling me even closer, receiving a low moan from me as he does. His hand gliding over my stomach as he moved around to the zipper on my pants, slowly pulling it down—

_Beep, Beep, Beep_

I flinch at the high pitched squeal that broke me out of my entranced state. Out of annoyance, Jace lays flat on me, no longer supporting most of his weight himself as he buries his head in the crook of my neck, groaning loudly in my ear. After a moment of this, he finally decides to no longer suffocate me with his surprisingly large weight and answer his phone.

As he walked back into the livingroom I breath in a deep breath to clear my foggy mind. Once I get up from the kitchen floor I see my shirt laying near the stove—_When the Hell did he take that off?_

While I put my shirt on with a blush growing on my face, Jace returns to the kitchen, look none too happy.

"I'm sorry Clary, the boss called and said I'm need in the station—it's an emergency."

"Oh,' I begin to say, wondering what it must be that required them to call someone at eight in the evening on a Friday night back to work. 'is everything alright?"

"I don't know, he didn't want to get into any great details over the phone, can I make it up to you tomorrow night?" He asks me with a slight puppy dog face, I roll my eyes.

"I think I can work you into my schedule." I reply with a shrug of my shoulders.

"Good,' He laughs 'I'll see you tomorrow." He says as he moves towards me, cupping one of my cheeks as he gives be a quick kiss before turning around and closing my front door quietly.

o.O.o

_The Day after the robbery at the bank_

Strangers Point of View

I scanned the photos again for what seemed like the hundredth time, taking a drag from my cigar as I analysed the photos from every person to every damn plant—memorising _everything._

Loud cursing sounded through my door until a hard knock came through it.

"Come in." I said coolly. Seconds later, two of my men walk in dragging the pieces of shit that I hired. "Ahh, Jackson, how good of you to join me, would you like a drink?" I stand up from my desk, making my way to a little bar, pouring myself a drink.

"N-no thank-you, sir." Jackson stutters out, I shake my head as I pour him a drink, walking over to him and pausing beside him. Being as close as I was as I glazed down at him, the droplets of sweat was more noticeable and the rustling sound that came from his clothes due to his nervous shaking was more clearer to hear. I leaned forwards slightly more and slam down his glass onto my desk, making the glass shatter and Jackson shut his eyes as he holds his breath for a moment. It wasn't until I made my way around my desk to my chair that he decided to acknowledge me again.

"So, tell me Jackson. What happened yesterday? What happened with Malcolm and Carlson?" I said with no hit of emotion, making Jackson flinch.

"M-Mm-Malcolm is died sir, and Carlson was taken into Police custody. It was Lightwood sir, he was fucking with us the whole time, he sold us out!"

I shake my head slowly, looking down for a moment just to emphasise my displeasure even more. "And whose fault is that, Jackson?"

"I don't—" He began to say, a confused look evident on his face.

"Who was in charge of hiring those men for the job?" Realisation became clear on his face until it was replaced with fear moments later.

"I was in charge of that sir." He says- slight dread lased in his voice.

"That's right!" I say as if I'm talking to a small child who got the right answer to a simple question. "And you are going to fix it, and if you don't." I pick up my .22 Revolver from my desk drawer, placing it between myself and Jackson. Leaving the last part of my sentence—not needing to say it in order for him to understand.

"I won't fail you sir."

**I want to thank those few people who review last chapter, it meant a lot to me. I would love if you all left a little review and let me know what you thought of this chapter and what you thought of our little turning point in the story!**

**Q&A **

**One of the reviews I got asked me if I was planning on having Clary and Isabelle become best friends, and at this point in the story I don't think I will. When I write these chapters, I don't really plan ahead on what I will be writing, and I feel like at this point in the story, Clary making a new friend wouldn't really fit, but you never know what will happen in the future! **

**Please leave a review, it will make my day! And I hope you enjoy this early update! **


	11. Chapter 11

Jace's Point of View

_An hour after leaving Clary's_

As I walk through the station, I hardly pay attention to the teenage "rebel" who was caught egging his teachers car—looking terrified as his mother and father give him a piece of their mind, or the prostitute trying to flirt her way out of her situation—my mind is in another place.

I kept replaying the words Chief said to me over the phone.

'_Jackson has been spotted." _

The words I've been waiting to hear since I found out that he escaped the bank. Despite two years of hard work, Alec wasn't able to make it high enough on the latter to find out who the head macho was. The person who was calling all the shots for the robberies and murders, but he was high enough to meet Jackson and the boys.

From what we know, Jackson was hired directly by the head boss, hiring Malcolm, Carlson, and Alec for one of the largest robberies we have seen yet—or attempted robberies that is. For six months, Alec worked undercover, trying to gather as much information as he could—to take down the rock of this criminal group. But despite all his attempts to get close with Jackson to gather the needed information, he got nowhere.

I however was a slightly different story.

Being the partner behind the desk, I memorized _everything._ Everything from the banks and jewelry stores hit, to the murders of criminals and drug addicts to the wealthy and the odd politician. Memorizing the patterns of all attacks and predicting who or what will be the next target.

But whoever the Boss is has proven to be unpredictable.

Despite the long hours and late nights I put in, as soon as a pattern was starting to form, he would completely change his tactics; making it impossible to connect all the robberies and murders to one group—if it wasn't for their signature mark.

Every single crime scene that was related to this group always left the initials CB. This being the only way we knew that the crimes were connected to the group—they wanted us to know.

This fact alone shows how powerful this particular group is. Smaller criminal groups try their best to leave nothing behind, not taking the chance that someone will connect the dots and they will end up in jail. But this group leaves the same 'C' and 'B' initials—if it carved on a wall or in a body—proud of the job they've done.

But I know it's more than that. Those letters are left to taunt me—telling me to give it my all—but my all won't be good enough.

And that's how it felt when Jackson escaped—until an hour ago.

If we are able to get Jackson into custody it change everything; the sooner he is brought in, the sooner we get to the Boss.

I turn the corner, walking down the hallway towards the Chiefs office when I sense someone walking up behind me. I look over my shoulder, slowing down as I see Alec slightly jogging towards me.

"Hey man, Chief gave you a call as well?" Alec says once he is in front of me, slapping my shoulder in a manly greeting.

"Ya, interrupted my date with Clary." I say slightly annoyed.

Clary

The name alone brings me so much ease—a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Being around her brings out a side of me that I never had the chance to meet until she came into my life. From her humour to the way her freckled nose slightly scrunches when she gets frustrated is completely and utterly perfect.

"The same girl from the bank? Is Chief okay with you dating a suspect?" Alec asked me.

I snap my head towards him. "Yes, that's her, and Chief doesn't know because she isn't a damn suspect Alec, you know that." I say harshly. Alec was never to accepting of my past relationships— to give him some credit, they were obviously not the right girls for me. But Clary is a different story, and because of that, a slightly tender topic depending on what you say about her or our relationship.

"I know, I know.' He begins to say, placing a hand on my arm to show he means no harm. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything bad of it. I actually would like to meet her again, to apologise for what happened." I don't say anything in reply as we now stand outside of the Chiefs office. I know it's something that would bothers Alec. I know that what happened at the bank and what he had to do to prevent his cover from being blown is weighing on his conscience—it bothers me that he has to deal with this guiltiness, despite the fact that he hides it well, I know it's there. But for now, he has to live with it, for Clary's sake.

In my job, force is needed—and unfortunately Clary was on the receiving end. Every time I accidently mention Alec's name, she completely changes. Instead of this gorgeous, funny and kind person she is, she becomes nervous, frighten like a small child who watched a horror movie—it's heartbreaking. And for the time being, I can't image Alec and Clary in the same room, not for Clary's safety—physically and mentally.

I knock on Chiefs door, walking in when I hear the deep voice granting us access. I quickly scan the brown but bright room, seeing Chief Maxwell sitting at his large wooden desk, surrounded by pictures and files.

"Sit down boys; we have a lot to go over." Alec and I made our way to the also brown chairs, taking a closer glance at the photos on his desk—pictures of the bank. "As I informed you both over the phone, Jackson has been spotted on the out skirts of the city. From what we gathered from the security cameras, he was meeting with another possible person associated with their group."

"Where is he now?" Alec jumps in, wasting no time on getting to the point.

Maxwell however doesn't seem fazed by this interruption. "Unfortunately, by the time one of the closest squad car got there, the two men had already dispersed."

Alec and I share a disappoint look, _So much for leaving Clary's._

"However, both Jackson and the other man where in perfect view on the camera, we got a lip reader to see if they could figure out what was being said between to the men; and lucky for us, he was pretty successful."

"Well what did he figure out?" I ask, excitement sparking deep inside me. _Maybe we will catch Jackson after all._

"Lucky for us, Jackson isn't very good with picking secure locations to discuss strategy. From what we gathered, they are planning on robbing the same bank again, September 24th."

"What?' Alec says, shocked by this new information 'that's impossible! When I was undercover it took us _six months _to plan and follow through—and rob the same bank! There is no way."

As Alec continued to rant about hiring a new lip reader who, the more I considered the possibilities of this new information to be true—we would never see it coming.

"What's our next step?" I interrupt Alec who seems to be seeing Red, looking at Maxwell to give the order.

"Well,' he looks between the both of us. 'get ready for next month, and close this case."

**PLEASE READ**

**This chapter is more for those who are slightly confused with the story, I hope this clears up any questions you have. **

**I would like to thank those few people who reviewed last chapter, it means a lot. **

**To be all honest, reviews have been declining lately and it doesn't seem very encouraging. I'm not going to stop the story until I get more reviews or demand a certain amount in order for you all to get the next chapter. This story is about you enjoying a story and for me to work on my ideas and writing skills. **

**So I ask you, do you like where the story is so far? Please let me know, for my writing and for you to read a better story. **

**I wasn't planning on telling you this until later but I have an idea for a sequel for this story. I have this exciting idea for about a year now and I few like it would fit nicely with this story. However, if you guys don't really care for this story than there wouldn't really be a point in writing that sequel, so please, let me know what you think!**

**I hope you all had a wonderful New Year and you all have a great 2015 year! **

**P.S. Updates will be slower this month; I have diplomas so most of my time will be spent on passing those! **


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